I'm going to work in Israel this summer, researching and writing (part of) a guidebook. The Sudanese stamps in my current passport make me nervous enough about border crossings that I'm applying to the State Department for a second, temporary passport just for this trip. To that end, I got my 2-by-2-inch picture taken today (it was terrible) at CVS. The photographer was a young Ghanaian guy named Joe. He and I chatted while we watched my limp-haired image emerge on the EasyPrint screen. He told me that Kofi Annan is a great guy -- and from his hometown.

Emerging, blinking

I was sitting outside in the brand new spring sunlight when a man walked out of the building behind me with his friends and announced, "If this day were a girl, I'd marry it!"

Today I checked out a book of poetry from the undergrad library that hasn't been checked out in 9 years.

I work a Saturday morning shift at the Harvard Square Homeless Shelter, which (its directors will proudly tell you) is the only entirely student-run homeless shelter in the US. Run by Harvard undergrads and staffed by volunteers from everywhere, it has 24 beds, a pristine collection of The New Yorkers (for late-night reading) and a wonderfully cozy feeling.

I cook breakfast, clean, and do laundry, but I also get to talk. Self-selection makes the volunteer staff full of interesting, admirable people, and fate or random chance makes the guests awareness-altering, sometimes clearly loopy, sometimes grave, sometimes no different than they probably would be if they owned a two-story clapboard in Allston.

A man told me today that he paints the calligraphy on stained-glass windows. (Many of our guests are employed.) Mistakes are expensive, but the glass is beautiful, he said. Saints, Bible stories, the Virgin. Like icons, you know? And he pulled out a little wooden block, with hinged doors, smaller than the palm of my hand. Inside it was a gold and blue image of Mary and the Christ child. Like this, I paint them like this.

Like ostriches

Progress reports are coming home from school, so there has been much quiet reflection and self-assessment over the past few days. Even by our kindergartener.

"I came into kindergarten already knowing a lot of stuff, and now I have learned even more!"

I thought of how he had blossomed during his year of pre-school, learning the letters of the alphabet, learning to count past thirteen finally. "So you feel like you knew lots of things before the year started?"

"Yeah. Like that dolphins are birds but just can't fly."

Jumping

Ruth enjoyed autumn about two months ago in New England. We're still waiting for the maple tree in our front yard here in northern Florida to turn red, but in Atlanta over Thanksgiving weekend, we got a glorious autumn--yellow, orange, and brilliant red leaves. AND my sister's next door neighbor's yard was covered with fallen leaves.

Eleanor and Isaac and I scraped and kicked and carried them into a pile nearly four feet high and then jumped and burrowed and hid. Every day we were there (well, till the rain dampened them and our enthusiasm) we played in the leaves. It felt so virtuous, so fun! Reminded me of Last Child in the Woods.

I didn't miss Ruth

I didn't miss Ruth while I was actually eating Thanksgiving dinner. Sitting at my sister's table, dishing up the little guys' plates, laughing at the stories, taking just a bit more of my brother-in-law's (very successful) experimental turkey, I didn't think about Ruth's not being there. But in the cracks of the day, between peeling potatoes, as I helped Eleanor change into clean clothes, getting the pies out for dessert, putting the last dishes into the dishwasher, in those moments I ached for her.

We had thought about flying her to Atlanta, even searched for flights. But she would have had to miss class. It would have been expensive. And she's going to be home for Christmas in three weeks.

Of course, Sam wasn't there either, but it's different with him. We knew when he left on his mission that we wouldn't have him for any holidays for two years, and he's in England, anyway, where Thursday was just a normal workday.

But as I lay in bed Thanksgiving night, I felt like crying for Ruth. My first Thanksgiving without her in nineteen years. Without realizing it, I had done the irreversible. She had Thanksgiving with people I don't know. She really has become an adult, and I don't think I was ready for it.

The Game: A Dissection

As campus has recovered this week from the festivities of Harvard v. Yale, my friends on both sides of the match have been rehashing their impressions of the opposition. (Not in terms of the football - who really cares about that? Only the four bare-chested boys necessary to spell out YALE in blue body paint, it would appear.) No, the key things now are the respective social scenes.

From outside the Ivy League, I would guess that neither Harvard nor Yale has much of a reputation for socially-adept students. We're all the GPA freaks who study to the point of absurdity, right? But within our bubble, there's intense debate.

YALE: You are large, impersonal, and snobby! We are a tight community that isn't afraid to have our drunken fun by putting Slip'n'Slides out on the quad, or by greasing pigs to chase.

HARVARD: Your community is tight because you are all afraid of leaving campus and getting mugged in New Haven.

I have a friend here who has come away from Game-weekend talk depressed by Harvard's lack of good parties. He drinks with his roommates, and wishes he had gone to Yale (which sounds more fun).

I have another friend, who goes to Yale, who has come away from Game-weekend talk depressed by Yale's lack of a good non-drinking community. He wishes he had gone to Harvard (which sounds more fun).

I didn't even apply to Yale (technically making me ineligible for the favorite football game taunt: "Safe-ty Schooool! Safe-ty Schooool!"), so I can't really talk about it with authority. But the party conversations reminded me that Harvard really does have a great non-drinking sector. There's a group of freshmen who get up on Saturday mornings to make crepes in a dorm common room. There have been make-up parties, flash mobs, lecture hall movie screenings, and impromptu sing-alongs at basement pianos. My roommate is trying to organize a "Jesus-music dance party" . . . to each his own?

I doubt it's as simple as all that. Yale has a few non-drinkers just as surely as Harvard has a few steamy, alcohol-soaked soirees. But let's just say that, in this respect, I haven't got any buyer's remorse.

Wow, Florida!

So, here we are in sunny Florida. And boy, it's so American I keep thinking I'm going to die of culture-shock!
We live near the St. John's River, a source of joy and fascination for some diminutive members of the family. At the dinner table the other day, Isaac mentioned, very seriously and professionly, the "humanities" in the river. This caused much perplexity until someone expained in a hushed undertone, that they had explained to him that the St. John's contained many manatees.

Ellie Successed!

Eleanor has taken it upon herself to be potty-trained. When she first made this decision she sat on the potty chair for more than 45 minutes. To encourage this, we give each member of the family an m&m every time Eleanor succeeds. This was a popular idea among the second youngest of our family, who is the main motivator of our little sweetie. Isaac has begun to greet Nora's success with a rounding acclaim of,

"Ellie successed! Ellie successed!"

Comments

I recently joined an online myspace-style site called multiply. While browsing people's profiles I found a link to a page with html's for funny 'comments'. I found my favorite, one which I can really connect with:



I think that sometimes people get annoyed at how much time I spend with my friends. =D

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day, everyone! It's been a fun day for us, though I'm not sure that Sam (who was planning on 'going in' with someone for a present since he's so far away) knew what he ended up getting Mom. Anyway, Isaac said our family prayer tonight, and was prompted by Dad to say we are thankful for our mother. After completing half of the prayer he paused, and then said "please bless us that mother's day will be over soon." Oh, dear.

Scooper of Love

One of Isaac and Eleanor's favorite toys is a wooden one. Basically, it's a stick with two cylinders on the bottom with small wooden balls inside that rattle as it's pushed. The other day as Isaac was pushing it around he turned to me and said, "I'm scooping up love!"

A Carpet of Flowers

Outside our house we have a gorgeous tree covered in a multitude of pink blossoms. We had a bit of a wind recently, which dislodged several blossom petals, who drifted down to our front walk. When I opened the door, it was as if our whole, tiny front yard had been covered in a pink carpet.

Every once in a while I look out the window and see petals falling. It's snowing! I think.
On a different note, I would like to broadcast the fact that I am working on a novel about my how many greats grandfather, Jose Pimentel. Any information about him, his wife Rosa Freitas, or any of their siblings, parents, friends, etc, would be appreciated.
Before I post this I would like to apologize for my absence from this blog. I am afraid I don't have much to offer, but I'll try to write more often from now on.

We were walking in the gorgeous spring weather when Isaac told me, "You know, when I was born was the first time I ever saw Holland!"